Suffering
by forgetyouinsiberia
Summary: When Elliot Stabler becomes a victim himself to something he never thought, his world comes crashing down. Eventual E/O
1. Life's A Climb

**A/N:** Right away, I'm going to say that this is the first SVU story I've written, but in no way shape or form the first story I've ever written. I've been writing for years. ;). That said, I came upon L&O:SVU pretty late in the game (like literally last year) and have been catching up on the show via DVDs and what not. I'm into season 9 right now, so anything that doesn't make sense or sounds outdated, is only because I'm still catching said, I'm always open to constructive criticism

**SUMMARY:** _When Elliot Stabler becomes a victim himself to something he never thought, his world comes crashing down. _

_Suffering_

_Chapter 1  
Life's A Climb_

It was late. He'd been heading home from work; Kathy had a shift at the hospital, and Dickie and Lizzie had given each other the flu, so someone needed to watch Elliot Jr.

He'd only stopped for coffee - planning on heading home as soon as he got enough of a fix to keep him awake long enough to get home, and make sure his kids were in bed for the night. He'd left his gun back at the precinct; no need to take with him when all he was doing was grabbing a coffee down the block. Olivia would be following him out within the hour anyway.

It had been when he exited the coffee shop that there was an apparent problem. He could hear someone screaming in the alley next to the shop. The husband in him told him to go home; call it in and let someone else handle it. But the cop in his brain became something more of a problem, and against his better judgment, he entered the alley, unarmed.

He growled at the crowd of people gathered around a younger man, brutalizing him, while at least six or seven other people just stood there and watched. As they turned on him, a knot formed in his throat. He was a cop though. This should be enough to negotiate with them.

It would've been, if he'd had his gun.

Instead, two guys herded him from behind, hitting him over the head with a baseball bat. He was woozy, but still conscious as four of the guys in front of him walked over, grumbling about teaching him a lesson to keep out of other people's business. A fist connected with his face; a foot with his abdomen. He curled over onto his left side as the two became three, and then four, and then five, and finally six. He lay bruised and bloody after a few minutes, and should have known better, once again, but he reached for his phone - only to tell his wife he would be late.

One of the gang-bangers caught this and smashed it before Elliot could even dial a single number, before he kicked him over onto his back, pulling at his pants. Panic radiated through him. He'd been beaten the hell out of many times in the past, but this had never happened before. His mind raced into over drive.

Four of the previous guys walked over and helped with the removal of his pants, then his coat, and one of the guys cut off his shirt while the other two held him up, though they conintued to take cheap shots at him. The one pulling his jeans down quickly pounded into him and he emitted a cry of sheer pain. Another guy muted him by thrusting his manhood into Elliot's mouth, making him gag. a third guy grabbed his manhood and yanked on it. He tried to fight it, but the physiological symptoms hit him, and his body reacted to the stimuli. Against his own will, he cried out in pleasure as the guy teased the head of his penis. Though they continued to use his body against him, the other two guys still standing over by the other crowd walked over, carrying baseball bats.....

_-----------------------------  
__**if i die young, bury me inside, lay me down in a bed of roses**  
----------------------------**  
**_

Olivia yawned, stepping out of the coffeehouse. It was nearly 11 PM; almost two hours later than she promised Elliot she'd be leaving. She'd gotten so caught up in paperwork that she kept promising herself 'after this packet,' though it ended up being almost five packets of work later that she finally shut her lamp off and gave in.

Her cell rang and she groaned, pulling it from her pocket. The read-out read the precinct's number. She thought Cragen was leaving right after her? She flipped it open and pushed the green button, sipping her coffee once more. "Benson. What's up?"

"Maureen Stabler just called. She said Elliot still hasn't arrived home," Cragen spoke gruffly on the other end.

Olivia's brow furrowed, confused. "He said he was heading straight home." She walked towards her car, but stopped at the sound of someone's strangled outcry. "Captain, I think we need a bus," she spoke rushed. She looked around the side of her car, and then over by the building before peering into the alley next to the coffeehouse, while pulling her gun from her belt. About a hundred yards away, a body lay squirming, trying to reach for something - she wasn't sure what. Beyond him, she saw another person, possibly dead. "Affirmative," she spoke. "We need two. One alive, one possibly dead - the alley outside the coffeehouse down the street."

She flipped her phone shut and ascended down the alley, walking behind the first person, out of his view over to the person further down the alley. She kneeled down momentarily, checking for a pulse. A man, she assumed by the dim lighting, with a weak pulse, but likely to survive if the ambulance showed up soon enough.

She then stood and walked back over to the other man, kneeling down behind him. As she reached out to touch the side of his neck, he jumped, shifting away from her. As his head turned, Olivia gulped. Elliot.

"El, its me." She stood and stepped over him, kneeling again so that she was within his view. The knot in her throat grew tighter as she lifted his jacket - no clothes. "God, Elliot, what happened?"

He gagged, gasping for breaths. "Guys were gang-raping him," he spoke breathily. "I tried to stop it."

Olivia exhaled heavily, shaking her head. "Oh Elliot..."

_-------------------------  
**i'm in the business of misery, lets take it from the top  
**-------------------------_

Olivia gulped down another huge sip of coffee as she flipped through her notes once again. She wanted to make sure Elliots statement was ironclad before she went into the presinct and had to share such lovely information with the rest of their team. She hadn't even thought about talking with Kathy. She knew everything would go crazy after that.

She stood from her seat and walked towards the elevator, tossing her coffee out when she reached the wastepaper bin. A hand on her arm made her jump as she turned, seeing Cragen.

"You should go home, Liv. You're on four days without rest."

She shook her head, brushing her hair out of her face. "No. We've been together 11 years. I'm not leaving him now."

Cragen sighed, but nodded, giving up defeat. "Someone needs to tell his wife."

Olivia swallowed hard. "I was afraid you were gonna say that." She nodded after a second. "I'll find her and tell her."

Cragen nodded. "Be gentle. She's likely to be mad that he didn't show up, and then freak once she knows why."

"Yeah," Olivia agreed. "What're you doing here anyway. I already got Elliot's statement."

Cragen shrugged. "Someone needs to stay with him until we can get detail outside his door. I'm pretty sure this was planned."

Olivia scrunched her face, shaking her head. "No way. He didn't have anything on him."

Cragen dismissed it. "He had his badge on him. He also said they knew him by name and cut the side of his head with his own badge. DNA proved it."

Olivia shifted her weight from one foot to the other, shaking her head. "Why didn't he tell me this?"

"We all know Elliot more than his own family. He's only going to give pieces to each of us until he has to give an official statement, and that's probably going to be the last he says to any of us for a while. What I'm more worried about...." He shook his head, trailing off.

Olivia looked back up at him. "What?"

Cragen stared at her for a moment, not sure whether he should actually say it, but he did anyway. "You two are closer than most partners ever are. For years everyone had bets on how long it would take you two to get together, and with all due respect, this could the nail in the coffin. I can guarantee you he's not going to talk to his wife about this."

Olivia shook his head. "Captain, there's no way-"

"I'm just saying what I know, Liv. Once you start this, you can't back out. And for all intensive purposes, you were in the minute you found him in that alley," Cragen finished.

Olivia sighed again. "G'night captain." She turned away and walked towards the stairs, tired of hearing what he had to say. There was no way she and Elliot were THAT compatible.

She only made it to the second floor when she collided with several nurses; one of which was Kathy.

"Olivia. What're you doing here? Is Elliot here," she asked. Her last sentence was spoke with slight disdain, but Olivia couldn't really blame her.

The other two nurses standing with Kathy exited the door while Olivia turned past Kathy and sat down on the stairs wearily. "You should sit."

Kathy shook her head. "What happened? Did he get hurt?"

Olivia scratched her head, not wanting to tell her this way. Then again, if Kathy wouldn't agree, what else could she do? "Elliot...He's..." She shook her head, not even able to piece together how to tell her this.

Kathy sat down next to her, gulping. "Please don't tell me he got shot, o-or that he's dead," she spoke rushed.

Olivia shook her head. "No. But we think...he was on his way home, and witnessed a crime being committed. He tried to break it up and got caught in the crossfire."

Kathy nodded, taking in what she was saying. "Caught in the crossfire...stabbed? Shot?"

Olivia shook her head again, feeling the tears burn in her eyes. "Elliot was beaten up pretty bad. He said there were at least five guys." She rested her head against the palms of her hands, trying to fight the fatigue, but every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was Elliot laying on the ground. She sat up straight again, digging her hands into her hair. "I don't know how to tell you this."

Kathy shrugged, staring at her. "Please just tell me."

A tear ran down Olivia's cheek as she turned to face Kathy. "He was raped. Sodomized, as well as orally."

Before she could say anything, Kathy stood, and exited the stairwell, leaving her there alone.

_---------------------------------  
**i want your love and i want your revenge, you and me could write a bad romance  
**--------------------------------_

She walked into the hospital room, almost nauseated at the smell of everything being so...sterile. Sure, she'd been a hospital room many times before with victims, but this was different. This was her best friend. She swallowed the knot in her throat as she walked over to the side of the bed and grabbed Elliot's bandaged hand. Though he had no broken bones, he had several cracked ribs, many bruises, and plenty of deep cuts - mostly on his back and torso, though his hands were badly cut up as well. They only assumed that he was likely dropped on without care, and tried to break his fall.

"How I envy you," she spoke softly. "I'm not sure I ever want to sleep again."

Elliot groaned, wincing at the pain in his throat as he opened his eyes. "Howmi not dead?"

Olivia jumped, looking up at him. Though his eyes were heavily bruised, he looked straight at her. She forced a smile. "Whta do you remember?"

Elliot shrugged a shoulder, wincing. "Leaving the precinct, going to get coffee...everything after that is puzzle pieces..."

Olivia nodded. "Pain meds probably wiped it out temporarily."

"I still know what happened," he spoke gruffly. "Doesn't take a genius to figure it out. You figured it out when you showed up."

Olivia gulped, shaking her head. "El, I'm sorry. If I had left when you did-"

He cut her off, shaking his head. "Don't. Don't do a guilt trip because I was stupid enough to try and fix a situation without a partner or something to protect myself."

Before Olivia could say anything else, Kathy walked in, rushing up to him. "How are you," she spoke quickly. "Are you in any pain?"

Elliot shrugged, though he winced as he did. "I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me to soothe my ego," she spoke softly.

"I'm just very exhausted," he whispered gruffly. "I'll be okay."

The truth was, his throat burned with a pain that he couldn't even explain to her, but the last thing he wanted to do was go into detail about rape with his wife. If he were being honest, he would have told her he wanted to slit his wrists. How the hell had this happened to **him**?

Kathy nodded and shifted, caressing his cheek gently. "I'm going to try and get off a little earlier. You should try and get some sleep." Elliot nodded, playing his cards perfectly and letting his eyes droop, as if he might actually fall asleep. Olivia leaned back in her chair, reaching for her memo pad again. She'd do notes while he rested.

Kathy lingered for a minute after, before she finally walked out of the room and Elliot sighed, making the bed lay at a 45 degree angle. His body ached more in that position, but he didn't want to be lying down either.

Olivia, meanwhile, flipped her notebook shut and looked up at him. "Be honest. What are you really feeling?"

"Like I could put a bullet in my head," he spoke clear and honestly. "I feel **so** _sick_ right now that wish I could get out of my own skin. I wish I could erase all I'm thinking and feeling and seeing every damn time I close my eyes."

Olivia swallowed hard, settling her notepad on the table next to her. She scooted her chair forward a bit, looking straight at him. "Elliot…" "There's nothing you can say, Liv," he said back at her. Though he'd intended it to sound angry, it came out as more of a whimper.

She nodded, giving in defeat. She knew there was nothing she could say that he wasn't already thinking. They were cops; they knew the drill of life after rape. Unfortunately, cops who had been sexually assaulted rarely every went and saw someone about it because they already knew the runaround. She knew for a fact that Elliot was that kind of person just from all the things she knew about his father, and that he hadn't told many people about the incidents with his father. Olivia was sure there were many more that she didn't know about, but she would never try to press him to tell her that kind of information. Elliot was her best friend. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him.

As she came out of her mindless thought wandering, she realized he'd dozed off. Once again, she flipped open her notepad and began to go over her notes….

_Elliot peered out from around the wall he was standing behind. It was felt so cold; maybe 20 or 30 degrees, and he donned no shirt, only a pair of jeans and steel-toed boots. The room he stood in was dark, he assumed in a basement. A few windows at the top of the walls bore little light into the room, making everything in front of him almost invisible. _

_Feeling brave, he stepped out from behind the wall and looked both ways into the room he stepped into, swallowing his last shred of hope as he saw the group of men standing in front of him. One man was holding a black metal bat, hitting it against his palm as he smiled menacingly at Elliot. Another guy held handcuffs, twirling them on his finger, while the other three simply glared at him like he was something to eat. The knot twisting in his stomach began to grow more prominent by the second as they all walked up to him, circling him. He felt incredibly nauseous as the metal bat connected with first his stomach, and then the back of his head, knocking him forward. They took that moment as a chance to herd him, and before he could even regain an ounce of his strength, they were making work of his jeans, while the guy holding the handcuffs restrained him-_

A shrill scream burst through the room as the first rays of sunlight burned through the window of the private ICU room. Olivia jolted upward with a startle, looking at Elliot immediately. He shook violently with sweat coating every inch of him that she could see.

"Elliot, what happened? Are you okay? What is it?" She spoke so fast that she tripped on her words, but got them out correctly in the end. Elliot said nothing though. He simply sat there, trying to comfort himself with pulling his knees to his chest, burying his face from the world.

This was not the man she knew.

The door finally opened, and John Munch stepped into the room, quickly setting aside a carton tray of coffees. "I went to grab these from Fin at the nurses station and heard him scream. What happened?" Olivia simply shrugged. She wasn't even sure how much Munch knew about last night. If he didn't know, then she wasn't going to be the one that spilled the beans.

As he passed her a memo pad, she realized it was her own, and that Cragen had probably filled him in before he'd even shown up. She wanted to talk with Munch, however, she didn't feel right leaving Elliot alone, especially in this kind of state. They'd all seen victims recoil like this, and she feared what he would do if they left him on his own.

Her fear abated as Kathy entered the room and rushed up to her husband, enveloping him in a hug. Elliot seemed hesitant at first, but then welcomed the comfort, apparently in need of it. Olivia forced her own guilt down and led Munch out of the room quietly, closing the door behind her as they stepped out into the hallway.

"I'm terrified of what this is going to do to him, John," Olivia blurted out. John nodded immediately.

"Everyone is. Especially with his issues with rage already," he added.

Olivia cringed at the thought and a frown fell over her face. "He's going to…I don't even know, but I think this is going to be his downfall. He's already disconnecting so much. I don't know that he can bounce back from this." John nodded, looking through the window on the door at Elliot and Kathy who were still hugging. Helping a victim through a rape or sexual assault was never easy, but a male victim was almost ten times harder than a female because of all the stigmas and double standards.

"I think this is going to become a game of playing it by ear and just hoping that with time, it gets better," John spoke honestly. And Olivia knew he was right. Elliot might never get through this if they didn't stick by him…


	2. Take Me Under

A/N: Okay, I'll be honest. I'm not sure what it is, but the words just seem to be flowing so quickly with this story. I started writing this on Saturday night at 1 AM, and worked on most of it yesterday, and finished it up tonight. I can't guarantee multiple weekly posts all the time, but as long as the plot bunnies are working with me, I'm here to serve you….chapters, that is.

Anyway…on we go.

**Disclaimer: (Yes, I'm aware I forgot this before) I do not own or am affiliated with anyone that has anything to do with Law & Order:SVU, nor do I have any connections to the writers, producers, ect, or Don Wolf. If I did, Elliot and Olivia would have been together years ago. **

**On the off chance that I do use something in here that I **_**do**_** own, I'll tell you right away. Also, I've stated this in other stories I write, but generally when I'm breaking either the POV or doing a time break, its brought about with dashes and/or lyrics, generally bolded AND italicized. lyrics that are only italicized generally mean someone is singing them or that music is being played.**

**I also want to mention right away, that this isn't a light story by any standards. Things are going to get darker before they get better, and Elliot's life is going to spin out of control before they remotely start to turn around.  
**

_Chapter 2_

_Take Me Under_

If disconnection was possible, then Elliot Stabler was certainly the epitome of it. Everything he'd done in the last two days was a complete dichotomy of themselves. If he said one thing, he would do another. If he said he was okay, he knew he wasn't. Everything was twisted around and backwards, but all he knew was that's how everything felt. Backwards and upside down in the worst way.

He couldn't sleep. Every time he slept, he saw their faces, clear as day. He'd worked with the sketch artist not even 12 hours after the attack, and the faces of those five men burned still so brightly in his brain, it was like someone had lit a match and was trying to burn him down inside his own body.

He couldn't eat either. Every time he touched a morsel of food, nausea radiated through him at the thought of what had last been in his stomach; someone's semen. That mere thought made him vomit at the drop of a hat, and he wasn't sure there was a way to fix it. If he could, he would run from the world and fit himself into a tiny little box and never leave. Hide in a world away from everyone else.

But he knew that wasn't reality. He couldn't just run away and live inside a box, literally or even metaphorically. He had to face the hand he'd been dealt, because at some point, otherwise, it would crash down on him so hard that there would be no way to recover from it. He didn't want this to be the death of him.

As he stared at himself through the mirror across the room, he almost grimaced at his appearance. Deep purple circled lined his eyes, both from bruising as well as lack of sleep. His eyeballs themselves were bloodshot beyond any point they'd ever been before, between the tears and sleeplessness. While his family slept, he sat in front of the triple padlocked door with a baseball bat and his gun.

He didn't really need three padlocks on the door; they lived in a relatively nice neighborhood, with a lower crime-rate than other parts of New York City, but he refused to take any chances. There was no fucking way that someone was getting into his house to hurt him, his wife, or his kids. Of course, Captain Cragen had told him all he would really need to do was change the master locks on his home just for safety, but Elliot didn't care. He'd spent most of the day before installing padlocks and chain locks on every door that exited the door. He didn't care what any doctor said about rest. He didn't want to rest. He wanted to keep his mind busy, and putting locks on doors kept his head busy. Hell, if the alarm company would have let him install his own alarm, he would have done that too, but they had insisted that someone needed to come out and put it in for them, in about a week.

That was the only thing he'd felt slightly ashamed about. He'd agreed to look into a cold case for a family if they agreed to come sooner than a week to install the security system. Kathy had been absolutely infuriated when she found out, but allowed him to continue on his stupor none the less. She kept all five of their children out of his way, fearing what he would do if any of them actually tried to stop him, considering he really hadn't said more than two words to any of them since getting home.

Below his eyes, an angry, reddish-blue bruise still burned his cheek. He'd been lucky his cheekbone hadn't shattered under the force of the bat as it came down on his head that night, but it had left one hell of a bruise, and the doctors had even told him there may be bone bruising, but they wouldn't know until after it started healing.

He didn't really care, which probably wasn't the brightest idea, but he didn't. What mattered to him was the fact that he was stuck here like a sitting duck while everyone at the precinct was knowing every dirty detail to what happened to him, but he wasn't allowed to be in on the investigation. Instead he was forced to sit aside while they rehashed everything that had happened to him, to each other and to gossip about it to no end.

The better half of him told him that his coworkers, who were also his closest friends, would never actually do that to him, but it was the fear of being a victim that got to him. What if this got out into the media? What would people think of him? What would his victims think of him? _Poor Elliot Stabler, supposed upstanding cop gets gang-raped? Yeah, real upstanding now._ He felt so sure that the world was ready to crumble at his feet if he just said one word about it, and that was the **last **thing he needed.

The rest of his body, though beaten, didn't truly match his face. It was his ribs that hurt him the worst, though with three cracked, every breath hurt worst than anything he'd survived in the past.

Vomitting was the worst, and he seemed to do it a lot too, between getting nauseated at the very site of food, and fear of actually eating anything, it was like someone was trying to rip his entire chest apart every time his digestive system spasmed. Every single time, he was sure he was going to stop breathing due to the horrid pain he felt.

If there was one thing Elliot Stabler was sure about, it was that he much more would have preferred to have been dead now, than to have survived…

_**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
all that I'm after is a life full of laughter; without you, God know's what I'd do…  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------**_

Kathy Stabler stood in the hallway outside of her bedroom. She tried not to spy on Elliot since he'd come home from the hospital, but seeing him this was was breaking her heart. He just recoiled into a shell and didn't talk to anyone or do anything but sit there and drown in whatever was going on in his head.

She wondered how someone could do this to a man who had done so much good for this city.

Watching him through this cycle though, made her fear for his life. He never stayed sitting in the same position too long, thought she knew it wasn't just because of the pain he was in. He moved around to try and keep his brain in check. He spent ninety percent of his time pacing either the bedroom floor, or some other room in the house. And she knew she could absolutely forget about suggesting going for a walk outside. Not when going for a walk is what had gotten him attacked in the first place.

She tried to get him to eat. She'd made several of his favourite meals in the last few days since he'd been home, but they simply sat idly on the counter until they were too cold and hard to eat, and Kathy forced herself to throw the food away. Her heart broke when she saw him actually attempt to take a bite or two, only to throw himself quickly over the trashcan and throw up the little bit he'd tried to eat.

She felt so disconnected to the situation. All she ever did with rape victims was get their basic information and take blood if she was asked to when she did rotations in the ER, which wasn't often. She spent most of her time on the medical floor of the hospital, dealing mostly with sick people. In what she felt was a sick way, now she almost longed to go back and help out more in the ER with victims; she would understand Elliot more, she thought.

Either way, she knew she understood him here and now as she watched him once again pace the floor with one arm wrapped tightly across his body like he might be sick. He was physically sick and disgusted with himself to the point of physically throwing up.

She only wished she knew how to help him.

Kathy finally admitted defeat mentally and sauntered out of the hallway, down the stairs and into the Stabler family room. Lizzie and Dickie had several board games laying out on the coffee table, though they were playing a card came, and Eli was playing with a fire truck on the floor near them, making 'choo choo' sounds. Both she and Elliot had neglected to tell any of their four competent children yet about what had happened two days ago. Once Elliot had returned home the day before, he had been full swing into getting housework done, even though he said very little to anyone and came off very cold to his children, Kathy was sure they probably thought she and Elliot were arguing.

Truth be told, she wished they were. She would've given anything to have him just get upset in any form with her. Ever since yesterday morning in the hospital when he broke down after having a nightmare, he hadn't said or done much more. It was like he'd put up walls all around him and blocked out ever sense of emotion that came along.

"_Built my little army fourty legions strong, ready to battle all emotion that comes along…" _

She could hear her daughter's voice from the family room, and the irony of it all burned a knot in her throat. A part of her screamed to go back upstairs and shake her husband back into reality, but she knew that would do no good. He was lucky if he was even still thinking rationally after what he'd been put through. What the man really needed to do was sleep, not that he would.

As if she could hear his thoughts, she heard his footsteps in the hallway upstairs, and then the creaking of the stairs as he walked down them. From the kitchen she could view a straight shot to the front door, and shook her head as she saw him check each of the three deadbolts and then the chain lock before he turned around, only to be met with Eli clinging tightly to his leg. The smile that covered Elliot's face was small, but he gingerly leaned over and picked the boy up from the floor, carrying him to the kitchen. Kathy had pretended to busy herself, though she turned her attention back to her as he stood before her.

"I was going to go out for a walk and wondered if you wanted to come." Elliot's voice was soft, though she wasn't sure if it was intentional, or if he was losing it. She figured it was probably the latter, considering all the abuse it had taken not even 48 hours earlier, and screaming in his sleep certainly didn't help.

"Sure," she nodded, taking Eli from him. Eli pouted, but only for a moment before Kathy told him she'd bring him back a toy. She knew that would mean driving instead of walking, but if nothing else, she could go later. By the time they got back, she was sure he would forget anyway.

Kathy grabbed her jacket off the back of one of the kitchen chairs before she followed Elliot out of the house, swallowing her want to confront him on the issue with the locks on the door. She knew that she needed to try and see it through his eyes, but it was very hard for her. She'd never seen this side of him.

As she stepped out into the brisk November air, she moved to stuff her hands into her pocket, but Elliot gripped her left hand gently. The bitter sweetness to it burned through her as she felt the gauze on his hand on her fingertips.

With her free hand, she pulled her gloves from her pocket and pulled her hand from his for a moment to slip them on. It wasn't super cold, but the wind had a bite to it, and she wanted to keep warm. And not feel the gauze on his hand.

As Elliot slipped his fingers back into her hand and then laced them together he kept his vision on the ground. She wondered if he was tired, or if it was something else. She wasn't sure.

"Have you gotten any sleep today," she asked softly. She tried to be completely nonchalant about it; she didn't want him to get angry. That wasn't why she'd asked.

He shrugged. "Twenty minutes after I showered. And then just before, I slept for about an hour." Once again, his voice was soft, but had a harshness to it, like he was forcing himself to talk as loudly as he was to begin with. Kathy bit the bullet. "Are you losing your voice?"

Elliot once again shrugged, but only rolled one shoulder, looking up from the ground, but only long enough to watch a squirrel scurry across the pavement, into the snow, and up into a tree. He smiled slightly. "I guess. Maybe it'll do me some good to not talk for a few days."

Kathy furrowed her brow, leaning her head slightly forward to look at him. "Why? Elliot, you have nothing to be ashamed of." _"I know that," _he growled, or at least tried to. "But it doesn't change how I feel."

Kathy accepted his answer, not wanting to argue. "How long did they give you off of work?" "Six weeks so that my ribs will heal, but I'll go back sooner and do desk work if they'll let me," he stated. "I need something to preoccupy my brain." "Won't that just remind you of everything," she questioned. "Maybe…." She paused and then shook her head. He'd never agree to it and she _really _didn't want to argue.

It was too late though, because Elliot looked up at her, curious to what she was going to say. "Maybe what?" She shook her head again. "Its nothing. I was just thinking." Elliot stopped walking, pulling his hand from hers and slipping both of his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. "Tell me."

Kathy exhaled heavily, pursing her lips for a moment before she spoke. "I just…I don't know, El. Maybe you should consider early retirement or at least a division transfer."

Elliot shook his head immediately as soon as the word 'retirement' left her mouth. "No. There's a reason I don't walk away from this job, and its not going to change just because I was taken advantage off by a couple of punks." "But Elliot," she tried. "They could have killed you." "They didn't," he reminded her. "I'm still here."

"Well what if it happens again," she asked honestly. It was a question she'd been burning to answer ever since Olivia had told her about Elliot in that stairwell at Mercy two nights previously.

Elliot only dropped his gaze to the ground. _"Rape victims are seven times more likely to be raped again." _He'd heard and even said that so many times in his line of work, but the last thing he wanted to do was have it thrown in his face at a time like this.

"I'll fight back," he defended easily. Still, he knew what she would say before the words even left her mouth.

"You did fight back, El." She reached her hand out to touch his face as tears formed in his eyes. He flinched away from her, as if she might burn him.

"Not well enough," he whispered.

Kathy frowned, dropping her hand to his shoulder. "Elliot, you did the best you could. For God's sake, they had baseball bats." "I deserved it," he mumbled. She didn't catch it.

_**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
the rains goes and on again; maybe its too late to try again  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------**_

The evening didn't progress well. Elliot retreated to their bedroom not even a minute after they returned home and hadn't said a word to her since they got back. She wasn't quite sure what she'd said that upset him so much, but she was more worried about what he might do to himself. She knew better than to try and take him food. He'd probably be more than likely to throw it away or at the wall with the way he was feeling.

She thought of calling Olivia, but even she didn't seem to be able to get through to Elliot that well. He talked to her just about as much as he did to Kathy, which wasn't saying much at all. And if she hadn't pissed him off, she might've been able to suggest him going to talk with the precinct's appointed shrink, but she doubted that Elliot would be willing to do that either.

"How could I be so stupid," she mumbled to herself as she dropped the last few plates into the drying rack next to the sink. Maureen walked in the kitchen at that moment, questioning her mothers words. "What are you talking about," she asked.

Kathy simply shrugged, smiling at her eldest daughter. "Its nothing, sweetheart. Just something I said that I kind of regret." Maureen chewed her bottom lip for a moment. "You seem to be doing that a lot lately." Kathy cocked an eyebrow at her daughter.

"Lizzie," Maureen explained. "She said it seems like you're feeling bad about one thing or another nonstop for the last few days." Kathy gulped. She didn't want this affecting her kids. They didn't even know what had happened yet. As far as they knew, Elliot had been working a really big case in which he'd gotten injured.

Maureen leaned across the counter as she watched her mother wipe down the counters. "What's going on with dad? I know whatever it is, you're not telling the twins, but I'm an adult now, mom. I can take it." Kathy kept her attention on the scrubbing she was doing on the counter, not wanting to upset her eldest daughter. "He worked a big case, and he got hurt," she lied. The story sounded so fake, and she knew it.

"Really?" Maureen asked. "Like, what _really _happened? Did he get beat up? Did he get shot? Stabbed?" Kathy shook her head. "No, sweetie. He just- he got hurt pretty bad. Just let it alone." Kathy silently cursed herself as the words left her mouth. Now she was sure Maureen **knew **there was something she wasn't saying.

"Tell me now, Mom," she growled, much in the same way Elliot often did. "And don't give the bull you've been feeding to the twins and Kathleen." Kathy chewed the inside of her cheek as she looked up at her oldest daughter. "Maur…" she shook her head at herself as she felt tears beginning to fill in her eyes. How could she possibly explain this?Maureen gulped. Whatever it was, it clearly wasn't good. "What did dad do," she asked. "Did you guys get into a fight? Are you splitting up again?" Kathy shook her head again. "No." She tried to swallow down the knot in her throat, and felt sick to her stomach, having to speak these words to her child. "Your dad…he was…. attacked. Raped."

Maureen's face was aghast as colour drained from it. She felt like her ears were ringing and she'd completely heard her mother wrong, but all the puzzle pieces fit. He **hadn't **shown up from work on time like he was supposed to the other night. He looked like someone had taken a two-by-four to every part of his body, and he was being incredibly distant.

"H-how," she whispered through the speechless shock she was experiencing.

Kathy shrugged, wiping away her own tears as she hugged her daughter. "The special victims unit are the only people who know. Your dad didn't tell me much, and I don't want to force him to. But, from what I understand, he stopped for coffee and heard a crime that was in process, and when he tried to break it up, he was herded. They got him pretty bad," she answered quietly.

Maureen still stood there with the shocked expression on her face as she took in what her mother was saying. She truly couldn't believe this had happened to her father. "I-I gotta talk to him. I gotta make sure he's okay," she spoke rushed, turning away from her mother. Before Kathy could stop her, she'd taken off up the stairs….

_**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
get away for a while, here I am out on my own again  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------**_

_He thrashed back and forth, trying to yank away from the handcuffs that held him down to the van behind him. He remembered this place. He was inside an abandoned warehouse. The van was lo-jacked. Olivia and the rest of the squad was on their way. Ray Schenkel had hit him over the head with something. He'd figured out that Elliot was a cop. Elliot knew his plans, but he fully intended on getting out of the garage before the man ever laid a hand on him. He made the same movements he'd made the actual night it happened, but to no avail. As he looked up, he realized the bar was not there. The handcuffs strung through a man-made hole on the van, leaving him no ability to move. Unless he was uncuffed, he was stuck. _

_Panic began to fill him as he heard footsteps approaching. This couldn't seriously happen, could it? He had to get out. He dug into the spot under his watch where he'd slipped a master key just incase, but didn't find it there. _

_Ray rounded the van holding a gun and smiled at Elliot, dangling the key in front of him. "Looking for this?" Elliot growled, trying to stand up high enough to kick the man, but his balance slipped, and the cuffs dug into his wrists. After a minute, he caught his footing and resumed the odd position he'd been put in. Ray smiled and began to make work of Elliot's jeans, laughing at him as he struggled. Where the hell were the cops? Why wasn't anyone coming to save him? "You ruined my life," Ray taunted. "Now I'm going to help destroy yours." Elliot thrashed, feeling as if the room was spinning. He felt nauseous. He felt dizzy. He vomited down his clean white shirt, only to have it cut from his body along with his grey sweater. Ray twisted him to his side, making the handcuffs dig more into Elliot's wrists and moved behind him, thrusting into-_

"Dad!" The girl's terrified cries finally brought him out of his nightmare as he sat up slowly. It took him a moment to realize who was sitting there. Immediately the look on Maureen's face told him that she knew. A panic raced through him; did all his children know? Had she figured it out? Did Kathy tell her? Had the press found out? Maureen clung to him, rocking them back and forth as she cried silently into his shoulder. Elliot gently wrapped his arms around her, unable to keep from wincing at the pain she was creating in his chest by squeezing him so tightly. "Maur-…Maury," he gasped, cringing as he bit hard into his own arm from how bad the pain was growing by the second.

Maureen quickly pulled back and Elliot dropped against the headboard, holding his waist tightly.

"Dad? Dad!" She screamed, thinking something was wrong.

"Just…a minute," he spoke through clenched teeth. It took him about five minutes, but he slowly sat back up into a regular position and breathed lightly, dreading feeling the ache of his ribs. As he looked back up at Maureen, he frowned, seeing the tears on her face. "I'm fine, Maury. Just a few cracked ribs." "I'm so sorry, daddy." She whimpered, hugging him again, this time gentler. Elliot wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back. "Its okay. I'm okay. Just…how did you find out," he questioned.

Maureen pulled back, wiping away the tears from her face. "I made mom tell me. I knew she was hiding something." Elliot nodded, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. "Just….don't tell your siblings. I'm not ready for them to know this. I'll tell them when we actually get a trial in the works." "When will that be," Maureen asked.

Elliot shrugged. "I don't know, baby girl. Right now, the unit is putting together a case. They've got physical evidence, plus everything I gave them in my statement, and physical descriptions of the perps, so we'll see. In a few months, I would guess, we should be able to start."

"And you're going to do it, right," she asked quickly.

Elliot gulped. He'd basically just assumed that he'd be forced to go to trial. He hadn't really considered the fact that it was really his choice. "I-I think so," he stammered. "I don't know. I hadn't really considered that it was even an option not to."

Maureen hugged him again, this time tighter than she had before, but not so tightly that she hurt him, even though Elliot winced again. She loosened her grip slightly then. "I'm so sorry, Dad."

"S'fine, kiddo. Just got a lotta bruises," he whispered softly. His words slurred together - a clear sign that his pain medication was finally starting to kick in. He slumped forward even more, dropping his head entirely, as he slipped out of consciousness again.

Maureen couldn't hold back the chuckle that escaped her as she gently laid him back against the bed and stood, covering him with the blanket he'd previously kicked off of himself, and exitted the room, leaving him to, hopefully, a dreamless sleep....


	3. Steal My Breath

**A/N:** Sorry it's taken me so long to get this up. These last few days have been very busy. I know a few people have been asking about Elliot and Olivia's relationship, which I am going to get to in the next chapter. I realize this story is moving very slow, but I promise that soon enough it will pick up :).

_Chapter 3_

_Steal My Breath_

Elliot yawned as he wrote out another DD-5, but he was determined to get this work done. The case had been done for weeks, and he just hadn't found the time to finish the paperwork on it in between all the other cases he'd been working on, but since the captain had put him on desk duty, and he refused to sleep, getting paperwork became a great distraction while guzzling down Starbucks with Olivia or Fin at three AM.

As he guzzled down the last few drops left in his cup, he scribbled a few more notes on the last form he was planning on doing for the night. Though sneaking out to do paperwork at night was a stress reliever for him and helped him avoid waking his wife and kids with his screams, he knew Kathy would be utterly pissed if she found out that he was leaving to go do work while everyone else was in bed.

Olivia walked up to his desk, settling another cup of coffee in front of him before walking over to her chair and grabbing her jacket. "I'm going to head home, El."

He nodded, signing off on the final form and then stuffing it into the file he had sitting in front of him. "I'll be leaving soon, too. Don't worry, I'll lock up."

Olivia nodded in approval, much too exhausted to fight with him. "Alright. Call if you need anything?"

"Yeah," he blurted, trying to organize the papers. "I'll ah, I'll see you tomorrow I guess."

Olivia watched him silently, wanting to say something more, but there really was nothing to say. She stood there a moment later, and then gave in, walking out of the room. Moments later, Elliot heard the elevator ding as the doors slid open. Thirty seconds later, they closed, leaving him alone in the darkness of the squad room. He finally finished organizing the papers in the file and then crossed the room, placing the file into a filing cabinet of closed cases. Someone would probably come by for it within the week.

He walked back over to his desk and sat down, rubbing his eyes wearily. He hadn't slept in over 36 hours, since he'd awoken a day and a half earlier at 4 AM, screaming from yet another nightmare. At that point, he'd insisted to Kathy that he absolutely refused to sleep if he was affecting the kids and himself this much. He'd sooner become an insomniac than spend every night waking his kids and then lying to their faces about why he was screaming.

As he sat back down at his desk, he sat perfectly still, hearing the clacking of stiletto heels at they hit the linoleum floors outside of the squad room. Had Olivia come back? Or was Alex coming to question him on a case?

At the same time, he could feel his stomach churning, and he knew he'd be sick. He still couldn't stomach anything, and on top of that all coffee did was remind him of that fact. Unable to wait to find out who was coming down the hall, he dashed across the squad room, yanking a trashcan out from under Munch's desk and heaved into it, gripping the sides of it hard as he felt the hot liquid mixed with bile burning his throat. He wished to God almighty that he could just make it stop, but his body worked against him, continuing to spasm as liquid ran up his throat and into the trash below him.

At some point in the midst of it, a small, bony hand touched his back, and he could faintly hear the woman behind him telling him to _'just try and breathe' _and _'just go with it. Don't fight it'. _

It was after about two minutes of straight vomiting that he finally managed to stop, though he still clung to the sides of the trashcan with a vengeance at all the pain racing through his body. When he was sure both his legs wouldn't give out from under him, he moved a hand to his head, still seething through clenched teeth at how much pain he was in. Still Alex simply stood there and watched him, trying to calm him in his desperate endeavor to stop feeling so lousy.

About ten minutes later, after regaining most of his strength and popping an Altoid into his mouth, he finally looked up at her as he sat down at his desk.

"Are you okay, Elliot," she blurted out before he could say anything.

He only shrugged. "Haven't been able to keep anything down in the five days its been. Whatever. I'll be fine eventually," he stated, though it was only a guess. "What's up?"

Alex sat down in a chair next to his desk, placing her hands of the file she'd brought with her, thick with evidence. He didn't have to be a genius to figure out whose file it was.

"Elliot," she started, and then paused, tightening her lips into a thin line across her face. Clearly this wasn't a conversation that was going to work in his favour.

"Alex," he retorted her name back to her. "Just tell me."

Alex furrowed her brow and grimaced, looking him clear in the face. "The five guys you identified are saying that they didn't do it, and their lawyers are threatening that if it does go to trial, they're all going to plead it down to consensual sex that got out of hand."

The rage that Elliot had just suppressed raced through him once again as he heard what Alex was telling him. "Th-they're going to get off? B-but the evidence, the- everything!"

Alex shook her head, laying her hand over his. "I need you to let the M.E. release the rape kit, and," she paused again, knowing he likely wouldn't want to do what she was being forced to ask of him.

"And what," Elliot spat. He was entirely furious about this and whatever it took, he was going to bury those men in prison.

"And I need you to testify," she finished. "I need you to get up on the stand and-"

Elliot cut her off, shaking his head. "You- YOU, you want me to get up on a witness stand and tell a hundred some people in a courtroom, not to mention the people who will read the newspapers, as well as the news stations, what those sick sonofabitches did to me? I wanted this to be buried peacefully so that I could tell my kids when I was ready and not have to deal with past convicted perps coming out of the woodwork to say I did it to them or come after me!"

Alex nodded, fully accepting of his answer. "Okay, Elliot. I get it. I just…I'm just telling you what the DA's office is going to tell you when this goes to trial. Those lawyers are going to plead it right now into a mistrial, and even though I have the evidence…" she trailed off, not needing to explain it to him.

Elliot huffed, breathing hard as he ground his fist into his desk and then grabbed a pen from the coffee cup containing a few dozen of them, clicking the top of it so that the actual pen came out. "What the hell do I need to sign to approve this?"

Alex pushed several sheets of paper in front of him. In no time, Elliot scribbled his initials and signature on all of them before throwing the pen down and walking out of the room with his computer still on…

_-**  
i gotta feeling; that tonight's gonna be a good night  
**-_

Elliot winced as his head hit the hardwood floor. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times while his surroundings slowly focused in. Kathy was knelt over him, holding his head up from the ground.

"You fell of the bed," she explained softly. "You were rolling around and-"

"Did the kids-" she cut him off just as quickly as he cut her off, shaking her head.

"No. The kids are still at school. I just still don't understand what took you until almost 11 AM to get home? And why are your knuckles bruised," she questioned softly.

Elliot sat up, and then stood from the floor.

"I just got angry and punched a door a few times," he whispered, dismissing her questions. He slowly stood, gingerly wrapping an arm around his waist as he did, and then settled on the edge of the bed.

"Do you want to get out of town for a few days," Kathy asked as sat down next to him. He looked up at her wearily, blinking slowly. God, he needed sleep.

Elliot shook his head, bring his hand up to his forehead. He could feel the clammy sweat clinging to his skin like hair to a balloon with static electricity. It didn't really surprise him that he was coming down with the flu. He hadn't eaten anything since that night, other than a bite of something here or there, and even then, he just threw it back up.

"You need to rest, Elliot. You've barely eaten this week, you won't sleep, and now you're getting sick. Have you even been taking the antibiotics the doctors sent you home with," Kathy inquired. Elliot only shrugged.

"I tried. Threw those back up too," he mumbled. "I barely got the pain reliever to stay down."

Kathy frowned, rubbing his back gently. Elliot leaned against her, resting his head against her shoulder. He winced slightly at the ache in his ribs as he leaned to the side, but it was nothing compared to the throbbing in his head. Kathy gently laid down with him, before moving off the bed and walking out of the room. She returned a minute later with a cup in one hand and medication in the other.

Elliot lifted his head about an inch off the pillow, taking a small sip of the water in the cup before he took the medication from her and swallowed it. He laid back down as Eli walked into the room, pouting. Kathy smiled at him. "Wanna take a nap with daddy?"

He nodded, rubbing away the tears on his face. She picked up her son and helped him out of his sweater and jeans before he crawled over Elliot's legs and up next to him, resting his head on Elliot's shoulder. Elliot turned his head, kissing his son's forehead and wrapped his arm lightly around the toddler before he settled again and began to doze off….

_The wind whipped past him as he stormed out of the presinct, absolutely furious. How the hell had this happened? Alex had promised it would take almost nothing to square this case away after all the evidence that had been collected, but now he was being told he had to get up on the stand and tell every dirty detail of what had happened that night. He would have to tell the press and the jury every single thing he had felt pierce his body. How he'd been violated. _

_His feet crunched against the snow as he walked through the early morning air. Even though it was three thirty in the morning, plenty of other people were also out on the street walking. Most were leaving bars or parties, but some of them were leaving work, just like he was. His anger radiated off of him like steam would after stepping out of the shower. He wanted badly to hurt someone-_

_He stepped around a corner, only to hear two guys arguing. One guy was shoving another up against a wall, drilling his fist repeatedly into the presumed victim. Elliot stormed up to them, shoving the taller man away . The victim fell to the ground, still conscious, but pretty roughed up. _

_The other man came back at Elliot, shoving him hard enough that he hit the ground, falling on his back. He kneeled down over him, continuing his assault, but on Elliot instead. He struggled to move his hands through the man's flying fists, but managed to get a grip on his neck. He held a steady grip for about thirty seconds before he felt cold metal scrape against his back, and then hit the side of his head a moment later. _

_The man had his gun. _

_He pointed the nozzle directly against Elliot's throat while he gripped both of his hands above his head with the other. Elliot stiffened, not daring to move. His slow, shallow breaths became hindered at what felt like kicks in his chest, radiating pain through him. _

"_You're that cop- the one who's always in the newspapers. They said you were raped." The man staring at him snickered. Why did he look familiar?_

_"How do I know you," Elliot spat back, still not moving. _

"_Oh, so you do remember me," he taunted. Elliot gulped. "Well, let me leave you with a parting gift," he spoke through a mischievous smile as he moved off one of his knees, onto his foot so that he could roll Elliot over_

"_D-don't do this. I don't remember what you got off for, but you won't get away with this," Elliot insisted. "Someone will see you. Someone will stop this." _

_The perp holding him down only laughed. "This is whore central. No one's going to stop me. And clearly the other night didn't loosen you up enough. Maybe you just need a better f*ck to take the stick out your ass." _

_A memory flashed through his brain from earlier that week; something one of the other perps had said. __**"I bet a good f*ck would loosen you up." **_

_Another pain shot through his chest and he screamed. The gun went off…_

Elliot bolted up in the bed, looking down at his son. He was rolling around like that of a normal two year old. Maureen stood in the doorway to the bedroom, watching him silently. As Elliot looked up at her, she chastely wiped away the tears rolling down her cheeks. Elliot gulped. He couldn't keep doing this to his family. Eli kicked his legs across the bed, hitting Elliot in the hip. He grabbed his son's foot and gently moved it back, shifting Eli so that he laid in the middle of the bed and then stood and moved off of it.

"What happened to you, dad? This isn't you."

Elliot's face fell, hearing what she murmured.

"Maureen," he started. He tried to find the words to tell her it would be okay, that he would find a way to deal with it in time, but the truth was evident. He really didn't know if he would ever be okay again, and especially after last night.

He swallowed the knot in his throat as his eyes became glassy. "I…I don't know what happened. One minute I was me, just fighting for survival, and then I just…" he shook his head, letting the tears fall from his eyes. "It's like I woke up the next day, and from then on, all I could think about was what had happened to me."

He stood, only to move around the bed and sink down in front of the footboard. His knees pressed against his chest as he wrapped his arms around them and leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling. "God in heaven…save me from this. Please."

Maureen crossed the room and sat down next to him, resting her head gently against his shoulder. Fresh tears burned in her eyes as she realized there was a padding there that hadn't been there two days earlier. "Daddy," was all she could mutter before a sob escaped her.

Ellio felt tears run down his own face as he saw what she'd realized. His marriage would never survive this. He was sure of that. He wasn't even sure he would…


End file.
